And yet again, I am faced with the conflict of reviewing a memoir, but rather than try to asses someone’s life story and how worthy it is of being told, which is absurd, I’ll instead focus on the writing. McCurdy writes in a plainly direct way that perfectly conveys her perspective at whatever time period the book is currently retelling, and yet doesn’t take away from any of the emotion or reflection that she felt at the time and feels now looking back on it. It’s very emotional and raw and purely human; there’s a reason this resonated with so many people and why she chose to write it.